


Tell Me Who You Do It For

by millennialfalcon



Series: my personal crusade to top every clone [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, Face-Sitting, Gratuitous Smut, Topping, an attempt to top the marshal commander is mostly successfull, i mention cody's beautiful thick neck often bc i'm obsessed, topping clones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-19 08:53:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29872176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millennialfalcon/pseuds/millennialfalcon
Summary: everyone says it can’t be done, but you’ve never been one to back down from a challenge. and commander cody proves to be a worthy opponent.
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody/Reader
Series: my personal crusade to top every clone [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2196240
Comments: 7
Kudos: 55





	Tell Me Who You Do It For

**Author's Note:**

> haha surprise! two fics in one week bc i’m unemployed. i don’t remember even writing this, once i opened the notes app i blacked out and the spirit of topping cody possessed my mortal body once again. anyway please enjoy as you attempt to top the untoppable. song inspo [here](https://open.spotify.com/track/68GvljAEXmTRiiAVvGxSy0?si=SsMCj3TNQs2ZQayvTj2ajg)

“I think I could do it.”

Jesse snorts next to you before downing the rest of his drink. “You’re dreaming, _ad’ika_.”

“Jesse’s right,” Kix adds from your other side, his elbow digging into your side, the feeling edging on discomfort. That’s what you get for insisting on this too-small table, but it’s the only one left with a clear view of the bar. You’re a people watcher. “There’s no way in all the seven hells you’d pull that off.”

You quirk your brow at him from over the lip of your glass. “You doubt my skills?”

Kix smirks and meets your gaze. “Oh no. I’ve seen your expertise up close and personal.” There’s a glint of _something_ in his eyes, then it's gone. “But this is a totally different bolo-ball game.”

Hardcase slams his glass down on the table, bottom up, and his face pinches into a sour expression as his drink moves down his throat. “More than a different game. You might as well be orbiting another planet, sweetheart.”

Your lips pull into a grimace at their words and decide not to bite back. Instead, your gaze drifts back to where it was before, studying someone from across the crowded club. The dance floor is overflowing, groups of two, three, four huddle together throughout the space in an attempt to keep up conversations in the loud bar. The lights are low, but you zero in on your target, watch his place at the bar as he takes another drink of whatever amber liquid he chose as his poison tonight. He’s too far for you to make out the details, but you can picture it in your mind's eye: the way his throat must bob with the action, how the tendons in his neck work beneath the smooth skin as he swallows. Your grimace morphs into a smirk, wicked and sharp. “Nah, I think I could do it.”

Most of the men around you groan at the statement and you’re jostled around as they shove each other playfully. “I mean, the man must be exhausted,” you continue, taking a sip of the sweet, neon drink you’d ordered. “Commanding people all day. Leader of one of the best battalions in the GAR.” Kix elbows you gently and grumbles. “ _One of the bes_ t, I said.” You worry your bottom lip between your teeth, mind running away from you. “And he works with the suavest Jedi in the Order – you know he's got game just from hanging around his General.” You sip your drink and mumble under your breath, “Probably tired of giving orders all the time.”

Jesse throws an arm over your shoulders and tugs you into his side. The action is affectionate and normally you’d smile up at him, lean in, but you’re still looking over at the bar. “Your eyes are bigger than your stomach,” he sing-songs despite your divided attention.

“Stop teasin’ her,” Fives says next to Hardcase, words slurring, nursing his second beer of the night. _Lightweight_. “Y’know she can’t back down from a challenge, _vod_.”

Jesse doesn’t let up, though, and he barks a laugh. “There is _no way_ you are picking _that_ man up. If anything, it’d be the other way around.”

You forego a reply and the conversation lulls as you all drink. The music is too loud, the air too hot, the people too close, but you wouldn’t have 79’s any other way. Something about it is comforting, the way boundaries seem to dissolve, sentients off all species, kind, and creed mingling and weaving in and out of the crowd in this bustling hub of escapism. You could be almost anyone you wanted to be in the dark corners of the bar, wrapped around whomever gravitated to you that night, secrets shared without speaking, instead spread over bodies by roaming hands and mouths.

Nobody had to be The One at 79’s. They just had to be the one right now.

And right now someone is standing from the stool next to your target, armor trimmed with that same mustard color as the man you’ve been eyeing. The unknown clone leans in to tell the other something and slaps him on the back, good natured. Now’s your chance, you realize, as the stool won’t be vacant for long. A tingle runs through you in anticipation.

Your words are hard to decipher over the loud music. “I’m gonna do it.”

“What?” Kix leans his ear toward your mouth to hear you better.

“I’m gonna do it.” You down the rest of your drink, and then snatch the shot glass of clear liquor from Jesse’s hand just as he’s bringing it to his lips. He shouts a curse, indignant, but you tip it back into your mouth anyway. You don’t know what it is but it burns on the back of your tongue and slips down your throat in a blaze. “Yeah, I’m gonna do it.” You slip out from under Jesse’s arm, dislodge Kix’s elbow from your side, and slide under the table to get out from the middle of the 501st cocoon you’re so used to being nestled in. The floor is sticky under your hands but it lasts less than a moment. In no time, you’re standing to your full height and striding over to the bar, befuddled calls from the boys at your back.

You only make out Jesse’s protest: “ _You owe me a shot!_ ”

The closer you get to the bar counter, the thicker the crowd becomes, and you grumble a series of _sorry_ ’s and _excuse me_ ’s as you wade through. Finally, you reach your destination, all but stumbling out of the throng, and you waste no time in doing your best saunter to the – thankfully – still empty seat.

His back is to you, chatting with a trooper to his left, absolutely oblivious to your presence. A tap on his shoulder and the clearing of your throat changes that and he turns halfway to you, his brows furrowed in annoyance at the interruption. His expression quickly morphs into something softer, questioning as he faces you more and eyes you up and down, unabashed.

That familiar heat is stoked within you but you maintain nonchalance as you lean against the bar, lips quirked into a smirk. “This seat taken?”

His smirk rivals your own and he gestures to the stool with an easy wave of his hand. “Have at it.”

You do, perching on the seat with your ankles crossed and knees pointing into him. He throws, “Later, Waxer,” over his shoulder and the trooper to his left bids him goodbye, his seat quickly taken by another anonymous face.

He looks over you again, and you admire the way he doesn’t try to hide it. You revel in it, actually, and lean in just a bit so you don’t have to shout over the thumping music. “What’re you drinking?”

He picks up his glass, honeyed liquid sloshing. “Kashyyyk Amber Ale.”

You signal the bartender and order the drink. You don’t meet the gaze that bores into the side of your face as you wait, and once the glass is set before you, you lift it to your lips to take a sip.

The moment the liquor touches your tongue, your face pinches at the taste, eyebrows drawing together in displeasure as you struggle to swallow. It’s harsh, not the pleasant burn of Jesse’s shot but instead assaulting, acrid, far too fermented for your preferences. You suck on your teeth and rub your tongue over the roof of your mouth in an attempt to rid yourself of the taste. You glance over at him and he’s still gazing at you, brows quirked and a grin playing on his face. “That’s disgusting,” you tell him, no preamble.

He huffs a short laugh. “Different palate, I guess.” He downs his own ale and you were right, the way his neck moves is mesmerizing. He sets the glass down gentle and pushes it away to lean his elbow on the bar and cradle his chin in his large, gloved hand. “You’re with the 501st, right? Rex’s men.”

“That’s right. The boys in blue are mine.” You don’t mean for it to sound possessive, but it does anyway and you watch his lips quirk again as the insinuation is not lost on him. You move past it as best you can, eager to keep up your casual demeanor.

“Well, it’s nice to finally meet you, I’m —“

You stop him with a hand on his chest plate. “Oh, I _know_ who you are, Commander Cody of the 212th.” Your fingers graze over the plastoid as you return your arm to your side.

He actually laughs this time, a jutting sound that emanates from deep in his chest. “Seems my reputation precedes me.”

You hum in agreement and take another drink of the ale. Again, your expression twists in displeasure.

“You don’t have to drink that.”

A shake of your head. “No, I will.”

Cody _hmphs_ beside you and grumbles under his breath, almost too quiet for you to hear. “ _Stubborn._ ”

You pause and side-eye him. You’ve barely spoken to each other and already he’s drawing you in like a tractor beam. You bite the inside of your cheek and look away from him, eyes dancing over the grand variety of colorful liquor bottles that are stacked behind the bar. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

A beat of silence. “Okay.”

“Is it true you’re the toughest commander in the GAR?” You swivel your head to him and rest your chin on your knuckles. Cody’s expression is a picture of indifference, but you’re perceptive enough to notice the minuscule raise of his thick brows. “I’ve heard some rumors. _The Marshal Commander can take care of anything. Commander Cody doesn’t take shit from anyone._ Stuff like that. I’m just curious.”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, searching your face with his dark eyes. He inhales deep through his nose and lets his hand fall onto the counter with a quiet _thump_. “I like to think I’m good at defusing hostile situations. Whether that be on the battlefield, or in more...personal environments.”

Your hum into the soft skin of your knuckles and look him over. He’s good, you’ll give him that. “Interesting. How modest of you.”

“Can I ask _you_ a personal question?”

You nod and reach for your drink. You feel him lean toward you, invading your personal space, his knees bumping into your thighs and his breath spreading over the shell of your ear as he speaks.

“Are you here with anyone?”

The grasp on your glass is so tight you’re afraid you might break it, but you know your strength is not that dangerous. The Commander next to you, however – you feel his weight against you and one of his big hands finds your leg, anchoring him just above your knee. S _tars, he **is** good_.

“No,” you say quietly. You look down your nose into the sparkling ale, swishing it around in your glass. “I mean, besides the boys. But I don’t think they’ll miss me. Much.” You glance over your shoulder and are tickled to see at least four pairs of eyes lasered in you and the Commander. They all shoot in different directions the moment you look back. _Nosy bastards_. “Actually, the whole reason I came over here is because they didn’t think I’d be able to pick you up tonight.” You turn back to Cody and something’s changed in his eyes; they’re darker, his gaze stronger like it can see right through your clothes, all the way to that smoldering want sitting in your chest. It feels as though you’ve swallowed a stone and it's sitting heavy in your stomach.

“Is that so?” Cody replies, and he takes a look over your shoulder too. You wonder if the men at the table catch his eye, too. He thinks for a second, and then, “You think we should prove ‘em wrong?”

You laugh, full and loud, and give him a sweet smile. “And see the disbelief on their faces? Nothing would please me more.”

He smiles back, but the voice that leaves him is low and rough and nothing like the coy grin on his face. “I can think of a few things that would.”

You blink. Damn, he’s so good. Too good. What are you getting yourself into? You contemplate the swishing amber ale to distract you. “Let me finish my drink first.”

“Oh _kark_ , just give me the damn thing.” Cody snatches the glass from you faster than a blaster bolt and downs it in one gulp, his Adam’s apple bobbing . You’re enraptured, eyes following the motions of his thick neck. Your fingers inch to reach out and graze the brown skin there, glistening with sweat from the hot club; you want to pull down the high black collar to see more of him. Cody slams the glass down on the counter and stands from his stool. “You ready now?”

You nod, too eager, too fast, but Cody’s already pulling you through the crowd, his big hand wrapped around yours, warmth emanating even through the leather of his glove. The two of you weave around the patrons of 79’s and you’re stumbling after him a bit but his grasp is firm and unyielding. You chance a glance back at your boys, and of course they’re watching you get pulled out of the club, their eyes wide, jaws slack at the sight. Jesse is standing as he watches you go, and you give them all a tiny wave as Cody tugs you out into the cold street, hailing a hovercab in less time than it takes you to find your balance.

****** 

You’re pushed against the door, and with your weight it slams shut. Cody’s hands are everywhere, pushing your shirt up and your pants down, no hesitancy to his actions but instead so sure and ready and doubtless as he ravishes you in the privacy of his officers quarters. He is all-encompassing, overwhelming, his armor cold and hard against the bare skin of your abdomen but his hands and mouth are warm, so warm as they traverse your body like he’s mapping it, taking in your topography so that he might come back and explore even more later. 

You slip your shirt over your head and throw it somewhere to find later. Cody growls into the skin over your collar bone as he sucks a bruise there, open-mouthed, teeth grazing. You gasp as the small pinch of pain and throw your head back against the door to allow him better access. He repeats the action on the side of your neck and you writhe, squirming between him and the door, but it’s no use – Cody’s firm body isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

He licks your neck where the mark is forming to soothe the skin before he finds your mouth again. Teeth clash in a battle of wills, your want just as potent as his. But he has the advantage of being bigger, stronger, and he pins your wrists to the steel door, next to your head. His thigh, regrettably still clad in armor, slots between your own legs and pushes up against your bare core. You cry out at the chill but he swallows the sound easily and eagerly, and though it’s colder than you’d like, you move to grind against the thigh plate all the same in search of some friction.

Cody chuckles against your mouth and pushes his thigh higher, and you let out a high sound under your breath. “So whiny, aren’t you? What are you fussing for, hmm?” He’s teasing, and through the arousal clouding your brain you remember what your goal is here in the first place. Jesse’s words come back to you for a moment.

“ _There is **no way** you are picking **that** man up. If anything, it’d be the other way around."_

You try to find your footing and wait for the right moment to make your move. In the meantime, letting Cody manipulate your body the way he wants is perfectlyfine with you.

You rut against his thick thigh and separate your mouth from his with a gasp. He moves to your jawline and works his way down the column of your neck. Your voice is timid, breathy. “I want…I want…”

Cody releases your wrists to tug your hips and guide your movements over his leg. “What is it you want, sweetheart?” Your fingers wiggle their way between his chest plate and the smooth fabric of his blacks and you tug at him in a vain attempt to get the armor off. You whine again, louder, and Cody tuts at you, licking up the sweat that’s beading on your sensitive skin. “Ask nicely, and maybe I’ll give it to you. 

Maybe it’s the mocking lilt in his voice, or the way his hands move you roughly against his leg, or else the liquid courage you’d downed not an hour before. Despite how good you feel right now, getting pushed around by this legend of a man, you know it can be better.

Something in you snaps, like a band pulled too tightly, and all of a sudden you push your hands against Cody’s shoulders and your feet meet the ground, steady, solid. Cody stumbles back but you don’t let him find his balance – no, you push him again and his feet slip out from under him and he lands on his back on the bed, bouncing with the force. Wide brown eyes stare up at you as you scramble over him on all fours, completely bare to him, your form in harsh juxtaposition to his fully armored frame. Even his gloves are still on, and you latch onto his wrists before he can instinctively bring them up to grasp your waist. Mirroring his actions earlier, you push them down onto the bed on either side of his head as you settle on top of his wide chest. Your core is dripping, smearing over the armor as you adjust yourself to be more comfortable.

Cody is looking up at you so stunned you can see the whites of his eyes. He’s panting, breathing so hard that you rise and fall from atop his chest with the labor of it. His expression is slack, mouth ajar, neatly kept hair mused from its gel and small curls falling over his forehead. The fingers of one of his hands twitch, and you feel the tendons in his wrist move under your palm. 

You lean down, inches from his face, and he starts to crane his neck up toward you like he’s going in for a kiss. You don’t move forward, but your core clenches at his eager attitude.

“What I _want,_ Commander,” you begin, and push his wrists further into the mattress. “Is to sit on that pretty little face of yours until I make a mess of it.” Cody really does gasp this time, a subdued sound of his breath catching in his throat. His pink tongue darts out to wet his plush, kissed-out lips. You feel his arms try to move against your vice-like grip but there’s no real strength behind them. _He’s just being a brat,_ you think with a smirk. “And then I want to fuck you until you fill me up, and not stop until you beg me to.” You watch the muscles of his face twitch as you detail your plans, micro-expressions painting across his tanned, prominent features. You relish the way his brows pull together just the slightest bit, and he closes his open mouth and bites his top lip and he _**gulps**_. Your eyes immediately look down to the thick column of his neck to watch the motions there, and it’s hypnotizing. 

His muscles strain enough to reveal a little hollow space just above the meeting of his clavicles. You barely resist the urge to lean down and run your tongue along the skin.

Though his obvious flustered state, Cody finds his voice, gruff, low. “You know, I’m usually the one issuing the commands.”

“Oh really?” You grind down on his chest plate, and you know he can feel the pressure. “How does it feel from the other side?”

Cody’s eyes jump to your slick core and his gaze is dark, pupils blown wide. He looks back up into your face, a smirk playing on those kissable lips. “Come up here and I’ll show you how well I can follow orders.”

His hands do actually break free from your grasp this time and he finds your ass, fingers digging into the flesh. He pulls you to hover over his face, hot breath fanning over your wet cunt, and you can only see the fire in his eyes from your position over him but that fire is raw and raging in his dark irises. You stay there for a second to admire the view of the Commander beneath you, a view you know is few and far between and something only a select few are able to marvel at. And damn, what a sight it is.

“Well,” says Cody expectantly, the word pushing his breath against your core. His fingers flex into your ass again, kneading it. “You just gonna sit there, or are you gonna let me get to work?”

Your cunt clenches at his words and you know he notices because his gaze shoots to look down his nose to look at you there. “Quit talking and put that mouth to better use, Commander.”

You sink down on him, and he wastes no time as he opens his mouth under you and begins licking into you like he’s a man famished and this is a special meal only for him to enjoy.

And **_fuck_**. He’s only just started, but the way he’s mouthing at you, devouring you with fervor, makes you consider letting him keep you for himself. The thought only intensifies when he finds your hooded clit with his tongue and works it, sucks it into his mouth. “ _Shit_ ,” you hiss, and fall forward to catch yourself on the wall at the head of the bed, eyes shut and nose flaring with your labored breath. 

Cody’s good. Too good, at everything he does. He cuts no corners, makes no mistakes, knows exactly what he’s doing and does it to the best of his ability, whether that be in battle or on a mission or, you’re finding out quickly, beneath you as he eats you out until you’re grinding over his face on instinct. He’s so good at this, so good you have to tell him. 

“ _Fuck_ , Cody, keep doing that,” you command when he sucks on your clit again, and your hips jolt against him. He hums against you, low, loud, like this is the only way he’d ever want to spend his evenings, like you’re the best drink he’s ever had the pleasure to taste. The vibrations course through you and you let out your own moan. “Just like that. You’re so good…so good…” One of your hands reaches to caress his head, and you wipe some stray curls from his forehead. You meet his eyes and he’s already staring up at you, brows pinched, the line between them getting more pronounced with your tender caress of his face. His ministrations stumble, but only for the slightest of seconds, before he growls into you and tugs you by your ass to sit firmer on his face.

You don’t know how his jaw hasn’t clenched with a cramp by now but he keeps it up, working you with skill. He guides your rutting with his large hands, gloves heated now by your skin. You’re panting, core coiling tight with imminent release, and you cry out when he opens his mouth wider to latch onto the whole of your cunt, nose brushing against your sensitive clit with each jerk of your hips. You search the part of his face you can see, really only his lust-filled eyes, but they bore into your own like he’s anchoring himself. “You’re _so good at this,_ Commander,” you tell him, mustering that assertive tone you held earlier, before it was so hard to concentrate on anything with his tongue fucking up into you. “Do you like the taste of me?” 

Cody grunts into your folds and seems to double his efforts, eyes fluttering closed in rapture. You’re on the edge, clenching around his tongue. “You’re so pretty beneath me. Getting drunk off my pussy.” You grab a handful of his hair and pull him impossibly closer, and Cody moans into your wetness. “Show me how much you love this. Make me come on your pretty little face, Commander. I’m so clo– _oooh, fucking **stars.**_ ”

Cody does _something_ with his mouth that you can’t quite decipher and out of nowhere it becomes too much and that cord within you snaps in two and you’re gushing all over his tongue, into his mouth, over his angled face, bearing down on him like your life depends on it and _it does,_ in this moment. You’d do anything to stay here, perpetually soaking his face as he laps it up with an eager tongue and a groan and the slight pitch of his own hips you can feel even from your position. You’re muttering nonsense, half formed words, praises, your fingers digging into his soft hair in your ecstasy.

Your orgasm lasts longer than you mean it to, but Cody just isn’t letting up, keeping your core on his mouth with strong arms over your thighs. You try to tug him off by his hair, but that only seems to spur him on. His sucks on your oversensitive clit and you shout, hips instinctively trying to jerk away. Finally, you have to concede. “Cody I – stop being so _stubborn_ – you have to stop, it’s – it’s too much.”

With one last groan and kiss to your mound, he finally unlatched himself from you. You scoot back onto his chest to take in the sight.

Oh fuck. Oh **_fuck_**. It’s like looking at the sun. 

His dazed, bright grin glistens with your wetness that coats the entire bottom half of his face, dripping down his chin, a string of your arousal connecting the chiseled tip of his chin to his chest plate where you scooted off of him. He gazes at you down his wide nose, eyes lidded. He sees you staring at him, unabashed, and his grin blooms bigger. He looks too damn proud of himself.

You try to knock the awestruck look off your face and give him your best grimace. “Shut up.” 

He laughs. “I didn’t say anything.” His rough hands glide over your thighs, calloused pads of his fingers catching on your soft skin.

“Just…” You trail off, chest still heaving. You narrow your eyes. “Just shut up and take this stuff off.”

Cody makes short work of his armor, the dissembling near ritualistic with the ease he removes it. He strips off his blacks, you help tug his grays off and he kicks them across the room. Soon, you’re sitting on top of him again, but this time you're settling your weight on his beefy thighs just below the apex of them. Your eyes are trained on his pulsing, large, leaking cock, a delicious tan just like the rest of him, standing at attention before you. _Kriff,_ he must have been painfully hard under his codpiece. All from getting you off?

There’s a thick vein that runs up the underside and you’re tempted to trace it with your tongue, but then you glance up at Cody from under your lashes to see his expression open and unbarred, his lust painted there for you to easily decipher. _Maybe next time_.

You wet your lips. “You think you can handle me, trooper?” You lift up on your knees and line him up with your entrance, his head tickling your folds. You clench at the feeling – he’s not even inside you and you’re already rabid for him.

Cody lifts his hips up, just barely, and you push him down with a hand on his abdomen. “I have so far, haven’t I?”

His attitude makes your eyes narrow again. “Watch your mouth, or you might not get what you’re looking for.” You graze your cunt over him again, barely there, a whisper of what is to come. He sucks in a breath through his teeth and you smirk. You echo his words from earlier. “Ask nicely, and maybe I’ll give it to you.” 

Cody swallows nothing – maybe his pride – and catches your eye. He opens his mouth, then closes it, then opens it again. Finally, he finds his voice. “I want…I want you to…fuck me.” The request is quiet and the words are intermittent and gruff like they’re clawing their way out of his throat.

“You’ll have to say it louder, I didn’t quite hear you.”

Cody sets his jaw, licking over his teeth. His words are more sure, stronger this time, but there’s a lovely lilt of hardly contained want lacing them. He lets the sentence out in one breath. “I want you to fuck me.”

You smirk, hands running up to his broad chest. “That’s what I like to hear, Commander.” In one fluid motion, you sink down onto him, the slick form your orgasm making the journey an easy one, but he still fills you with the best stretch and you both groan as you’re seated on him fully, taking his shaft to the hilt.

The first pace you set is languid, taking your time as you rise and fall over his cock, but that doesn’t last long. You’re already so worked up from seeing him like this, twitching beneath you, your come still all over his face, his chest heaving with labored breaths as you work him. In no time you’re bouncing on him, the curve of his cock hitting that spot just inside you with every thrust. Even though it’s divine it’s not quite enough. “My clit,” you tell him breathlessly. “I need you to touch my clit, now.”

He follows the order eagerly, fingers finding the nub and rubbing it in fierce circles. Jolts of electricity run through your veins and you’re so close, _again,_ and your hands are slipping up his sweat-slicked pectorals to rest over his collarbones, using him as leverage to lift yourself only to sink back down on him. One of your thumbs brushes over that hollow spot at the base of his throat, and you can’t help but apply just the tiniest bit of pressure.

Below you, Cody’s moan in deliciously wanton.

“Remember, Commander,” you begin as you feel his cock twitch inside you. “I want you to fill me up. Come inside me, that’s an order.” The sound of skin slapping skin drives you on. “I’m not stopping until you beg.”

Cody’s orgasm has him shouting, thrusting up into you with maddening ferocity, and the feeling of him spilling in you is the last thing you need to clench around him and come, hard, even as you continue moving. It’s so good, everything feels so good and right and perfect – Cody is writhing under you, no longer rubbing your clit but instead holding onto your hips for dear life as you pump him even after he’s stopped thrusting his hips off the bed. His fingers dig into your skin, surely leaving bruises, but you don’t stop, can’t stop, even after you’ve ridden out your own high. You need to hear him say it.

Cody’s jaw is clenched and his brows pinch together in a pained expression, breath coming out in huffs through his nose. He tries to stop your movements, to just tug you down and keep you there, but you subvert his will and start grinding down on him instead. He lets out a series of aah’s and curses under his breath, before his resolve breaks. “Stop, I ca– _aaah!_ –an’t give anymore. Please just – _fucking **kark**_ – quit movin’!”

His tone is pleading, frustrated, and you let them wash over you before you give him reprieve and cease your movements. But you don’t pull him out of you, you simply settle there, his cock softening inside you even as you still flutter around him in aftershocks. You cover his body with yours, chest to chest, and kiss his sweet, sweet lips. Your own taste lingers on his tongue, and you smile against him 

“You alright there, trooper?” you ask against his lips, your kisses lazy, unhurried. “Seems like you _do_ take orders pretty well.” 

He hums, the sound reverberating in the cavern of his chest. “It’s easy when you’ve got a good commander” His kisses you back, his lips oh so soft. “But there’s still something I’ve got to take care of.”

You pull back just enough to gaze at him and furrow your brows, a question about to leave your tongue. But something’s shifted in his eyes, and a devilish smirk grows on his swollen lips. Before you speak, or can even think about what you'd say, he lifts you off his shaft and flips you onto your back in one easy move. You yelp, pushing yourself up onto your elbows, only to see Cody’s situated his shoulders between your legs, making room for himself there. Your eyes widen, chest heaves with what you think he might have planned. He flashes you a wicked smile as he pushes your knees further apart. “A good soldier _always_ cleans up his messes.” 

You don’t have time to form even half a thought before his mouth is on you for a second time that night, licking deep into you as he takes in your combined releases. You don’t try to keep the upper hand this time, you _can’t_ – your head is thrown back at the euphoric feeling and the realization of what exactly Cody is doing, his mouth secure over your cunt, leaking with traces of _him_. You would never have pegged him as the type, but you’re too delirious with your quickly approaching third orgasm to make your mouth move properly to say anything.

He cleans you up thoroughly, licking into you, tongue finding your clit, pulling you close by the thighs and keeping them open with his strength. All too soon, you’re gushing over him again, and it’s fast and hard like a crash landing, and your leg is shaking with the force of it and Cody growls, low and deep and loud, and then it’s all over. He releases you and licks his chops like a carnivore having just devoured the rarest, juiciest piece of meat.

Cody leaves you to take a minute in the fresher, and you’re left alone to gather your thoughts. Or, at least, you try to, but the gears in your brain seem to be stuck, so you just stare up at his ceiling and try to catch your breath.

You hear him padding back to the bed, and it sinks with his weight as he settles next to you, sitting up against the wall. “You alright?”

You huff something like a laugh. “Yeah, I think so.” You clear your throat and try to move your aching muscles. “I don’t think my legs are working, though.” 

Cody’s chuckle is so warm and you want to envelope yourself in it. He gently tugs you up so you’re settled against his chest, and he brings the blankets over you both. “All fucked out, huh?”

“Don’t get a big head,” you say back, no bark to your bite. You settle into him, eyes drooping closed, and breath him in. “It’s exhausting, staying on top like that for that long. My thighs are screaming at me.”

“I can imagine.” He brings a strong arm around your shoulders and lays back into his pillows. “Next time, how’s about you let me do all the work, yeah?”

 _Next time._ You like the sound of that. It’s quiet for a few moments. You can hear his heartbeat.

Your voice is hoarse with fast approaching sleep. “Man, the boys are _never_ gonna believe me.”


End file.
